Fup. Store Cat.
The Trip to Kahani
"This would not be a good time for a strong gust of wind," Fup reflects, hugging
the uphill side of a narrow ledge. The sharp plunge two feet to her right
affords a long, uninterrupted view of the distance still to cover, a wide
valley swimming in deep green undulations.
"Pretty good for us, though," Wiggums volunteers, "all this walking."
"So one of those Fitness Council creeps got to you too, huh?" Bear
imitating the voice of some character Fup can't place.
"Aw, you've got it all wrong," Zooey follows. "It's not like that, Homer."
Another impersonation. They break up laughing, Zooey and Bear.
They're giddy, quoting TV shows, speaking in funny voices. Bear begins
affecting the weary gait of one who's been wandering the desert for ages.
Wiggums joins him, dragging his belly through the dirt, murmuring, "Water.
Water. My kingdom for a thimbleful of water."
Joe and Zooey break out ahead on their own.
Fup proposes, "We could just not go back. We could live together on
farm, hunting for our meals and sunning ourselves, and visiting Joe in
his pasture when we please."
"Bipolar much?" Bear replies. "An hour ago you were pining so bad for
your sisters I thought you might run all the way home."
Which is when they hear the roar from up ahead. Not a whinny or a bark,
but a roar.
That Cat That Changed My Life: 50 Cats Talk About How They Became Who They Are
by Bruce Eric Kaplan
"All these cats lead exciting and varied lives wholly independent of the human
race," notes the editor in his Introduction. Well, duh. Scant attention has
been paid to the role of community in modern cat culture, so what a relief that
here, finally, fifty articulate felines set the record straight. Funny, sad,
occasionally shocking, but never less than true, these brave monologues
reaffirm our interdependency in ways that choreographed public displays such as
Paws Across America never can.
Poems by Writers' Dogs
by Amy Hempel
In "Dog Kibble," Tasha Baxter's verse exhibits a brutal economy of
words: "Life is never meaningless," her villanelle announces, "there is
always food." Here and throughout this collection these authors demand
your attention, as if to bark, "You can send me to my room for yelling
at the neighbors but you cannot silence what woofs in my heart!" Among
the selections nominated for Best
American Writing by Pets 2000 are Bob Barker Barry's sordid and hilarious
hallucinogenic escapades with Lynda; a tragic, posthumous prose poem by
Marrow Irving; and Sadie Louise Lamott's "Spoon River Sadie Louise," a
wildly metered exploration of the cross-cultural dynamics within a
household occupied by dogs, cats, birds, and small children. The sheer
intellect of these collected pieces will renew your faith in dogs.
Is Your Cat Too Fat?
by Bronwen Meredith
Too fat for what? And what business is it of this Meredith person's
anyway? Bronwen sounds like the kind of lady I wouldn't like at all.